The Unholy Trinity
by miss.wonderland22
Summary: Quinn Fabray changed over summer. No longer the head cheerleader but a certified BAMF, Quinn's decided she's doing senior year her way or not at all. - Quinn & Brittana.
1. Chapter 1

**THE UNHOLY TRINITY**

Things were going to be different this year. Quinn was going to make them different.

She was sick of being the victim, sick of being labeled. The teenage mother, the bitchy cheerleader, Sue Sylvester's little mole rat. No, this year she was going to be who and what she wanted to be. And what she so happened to want to be today, was late. The first day of school had always been especially hellish for Quinn as early mornings had never agreed with her (she was a self proclaimed night owl) and despite the fact she'd hung up black sheets over her blinds to block out the sun, it still shone annoyingly fucking bright through the material. As if that wasn't enough of a sign that today was going to be a shit, her mother's voice floated up the stairs sounding like a munchkin on crack. The same damn words every morning.

"Quinny, time to get up for school, you don't want to be late!"

The blonde rolled over with a non committal grunt and slapped a hand down on her alarm clock which had started to bleat at her, in a manner that suggested it wanted to be thrown through the window. Who knew clocks could have a death wish? Grabbing the controller for her stereo, the ex-cheerleader flicked it on and held the button for the volume control down with an iron grip, not releasing it until her speakers where struggling to pound out the bass. Rolling her head to the side with a satisfying crack, Quinn threw the remote onto her bed and swung her legs around to the side of her bed, not all that surprised when her feet landed in yesterday's clothes. Grabbing her bra, she kicked the rest of the clothing to the side and stood up with a roll her shoulders, a satisfied hum leaving her as the rest of her bones cracked back into place. While last year's Quinn might have stressed about what to wear on the first day of school or rushed to slip into her 'Cheerio's' uniform, this year's Quinn was different. She grabbed a pair of black jeans from the semi-clean pile of clothes on her floor and tugged them up over her slim legs, needing only a little hip wriggle to pull them over her protruding hip bones. Her bra followed, fastened around her middle before she twisted it and slide her arms though – just in time apparently as her bedroom door swung open.

The noise of the knock had been swallowed by the heavy drum line that echoed around her room , however she wasn't surprised to find her mother standing in the doorway, lips pursed and her hands resting on her hips, crushing the bright yellow ironed material of her suit. Quinn shuddered internally at the thought of having to wear something like that every god damn day. What was wrong with that woman?

"Quinn, it's 7:45 in the morning, don't you think it's a little early for your…music?" her mother's voice was sickly sweet but the tense stature she'd adopted alerted Quinn everything she needed to know. Over the summer, her mother had gone from being in denial about her 'changes' to being angry about them, to claiming she'd accepted that her daughter needed to go through this phase and was willing to wait until it was over. Honestly, it was laughable how she thought she was in control of the situation and if Quinn hadn't been in such a bad mood, she probably _would_ have laughed. "It's Metallica, _mother_. It's never too early" was the only reply she gave before turning her back to narrowly avoiding the penetrating, judgmental glare of the woman. Bending down, Quinn scooped up her 'Sex Pistol's' shirt and tugged it over her head. It was three sizes too big (allowing it to hang off her shoulder), had been cut to show off her midriff and still had the faint smell of burden to it. No matter how many times she washed it, the smell just wouldn't come out.

It was perfect.

Turning back around, the pink haired girl barely managed to stop from yelping at the sudden vicinity of her mother. Any closer and they would have been sharing breath, a thought that made Quinn want to shudder in disgust. "Young lady, you are not wearing that to school, I repeat _not_ wearing that. I understand this is your way of expressing yourself and it's just something you need time to work through; something we need to work through together but I will not have your teachers calling me on the first day of school . I – Quinn…Quinn you get back here!"

Bored of the innate rambling, Quinn had grabbed her cigarette packet and lighter off her bedside table and shoved them into the back pocket of her jeans before brushing past her mother into the hallway without so much as a goodbye. Her school bag was in the same place she'd dumped it last night- in front of the door - and with a sigh, she lent down to pick it up before throwing it over one shoulder, and finally slide her feet into the worn Doc Martin's sitting beside the doormat . Collecting her keys from the front table Quinn slammed the front door behind her and threw her bag into the back seat of the car. Out of the prison she called a house and away from her step ford mother she felt calmer already, maybe today wasn't going to be so bad.

Perhaps the only thing Schuester had ever gotten right was that Quinn Fabray did indeed move people with her attitude. As soon as she'd stepped into the hallway of McKinley, people had gawked at her. She couldn't really blame them. After all they'd probably been expecting the long haired-cheerleading-queen bee from last year, not the pink-short haired- punkesk- bad ass mother fucker version of her to walk in through the school gates.

Over the summer, Quinn had cut off all contact with anyone from McKinley, well all but two; Brittany Pierce and Santana Lopez and only because the two of them had refused to fuck off no matter how many times she'd told them she didn't want them in her life anymore. Once upon a time, the three of them had reigned over the cheer-leading squad known as the Cheerio's and stirred fear in every living being at this goddamn school. They'd earned themselves the nickname 'The Unholy Trinity' and as far as everyone was concerned, the three of them were partners in crimes. What no body had suspected though, was that their "friendship" was more then the platonic appearance they gave it. Oh no, Quinn couldn't count the number of times she'd woken up to find one or both of those girls tangled in her sheets with the faint lingering smell of sex on them. Neither Brittany or Santana had approved of the choices she'd made over summer, but they'd both stuck around through thick and thin. Especially through the thick; this had involved more then a few screaming matches both in and out of public and usually ended with everyone's clothes on the floor and the reason for the screaming forgotten. Both the girls had begrudgingly agreed that they would act as if they had disowned her when school rolled back around at Quinn's request as they all had appearances to keep up and she hadn't waned either of them to be faced with the drama of having to answer questions about her.

The thud of her Doc Martin's each time they connected with the floor was loud enough to cause heads to turn in her general direction and while the expressions on some of those faces were of horror, they inflated Quinn's ego enough to allow her to walk down the hall with her head held high. She was different, she was making a statement, she was feared and admire, she was Quinn fucking Fabray two point oh. A smirk formed over her plush red lips as the whispers of fellow students met her ears, her exposed hips swinging as she strolled down the hall. Classes were due to begin in about three minutes but Quinn had dedicated herself to being late today and every other day of the year so when the bathroom door came into view, she pushed it open and threw her bag onto the counter. A group of freshmen were huddled around the mirrors, talking excitedly about god only knew what but more importantly, they were in her way and Quinn wasn't in the mood to put up with any bullshit today. "Freshmen, move" while her voice was hard and commanding, it almost wasn't heard over the girlish squeals but one by one the children caught sight of her in the mirror and their heads turned to stare at her like deer caught in the head lights. Quinn could almost see the cogs in their head turning, trying to decide to whether fight or flee. "Are you all fucking deaf, I said **move!"** the near boom of her voice was enough to send the girl rushing out of the bathroom in a frenzy, just as the bell rang. How convenient.

Relieved, Quinn opened her bag and pulled out the small make-up kit she kept in there. While trying to get away this morning, she'd not had time to put anything on and it was a perfect excuse to stall for time. Pulling out her mineral powder, Quinn dabbed a brush into it with surprisingly delicacy before rolling it in circles over her high cheek bones. When content with the coverage, she reached for her mascara and had just untwisted the lid when the door opened. Resigning to having to growl at people all day, Quinn glanced up into the mirror, about ready to rip the head off of whoever it was about to walk through that door. However at the sight of blonde hair pulled high into a ponytail, she stopped.

Brittany.

It seemed to take the ditzy girl a moment or two to recognize the other figure in the bathroom, and when she did, an excited squeal of "Quinn!" left her lips. Moving like lightening, the ex-cheerleader dropped her mascara into the sink and threw the blonde up against the wall, one hand quickly covering Brittany's mouth. Brittany's eyes were wide with fear for a moment or two before Quinn offered her a small smile and she sunk back against the tiles, reassured. Quinn didn't pull her hand away and instead let her forehead fall against Brittany's, her eyes shutting for a moment as she collected her thoughts. "Brit, remember what we talked about? About you pretending you didn't know me?" Quinn tried to sound soothing as she spoke, though her frustration would have been evident to anyone with half a brain. Thankfully, the blonde the was too naive to pick up on subtle changes in human behavior and she simply nodded against Quinn's hand, a small frown taking over her features as if she didn't understand. "That means anytime you see me at school, Brit, you have to act like you don't know me. Even if we're alone, alright?" When Brittany nodded in confirmation, Quinn finally pulled her hand away and stepped back allowing both their personal space bubbles to come back into play.

For a moment the two of them stared at each other, Brittany's expression one of confusion (which honestly wasn't that unusual for her) and Quinn's of longing. It should have been sinful how good a cheerleading uniform looked on Brittany. The girl's legs were long, lean, tanned and toned and appeared to go on forever before disappearing under a skirt that left little to the imagination. Suddenly, Quinn couldn't remember why she'd stepped back from the other girl and pressed a hand against Brittany's shoulder, gently easing her up against the tiled wall again as a devilish smile appeared on her pretty face. "Although… we _are_ alone and everyone_ is_ in class and I _missed_ you, baby." Quinn's voice dropped to a low purr, her lips brushing over the shell of the blonde's ear as she spoke.

The very tips of Quinn's fingers ghosted over Brittany's thighs and she smirked when they fell open for her . That was the brilliant thing about Brittany, she was so submissive and beautiful in doing so. Pulling back just far enough to see the slightly dazed expression of the blonde, Quinn snatched the girls bottom lip between her teeth, giving a demanding tug before swiping her tongue over the grooves her teeth had made to soothe the skin. The little whining noise that left Brittany's throat was like an aphrodisiac all on it's own and Quinn had to shut her eyes for a moment to control the surge of lust that shot through her.

The bathroom was silent, the only noise that of mutual slow breathes being taken by both girls before Quinn's lips moved against Brittany's as she whispered the seductively promising words "_you want me to touch you, baby?". _ Brittany gave a small nod and slid a trembling hand up the front of Quinn's body, her fingers dainty tracing over soft skin before they twisted into the mess of pink hair. Quinn waited, revealing in the moment's hesitation before a familiar set plush pink lips unsurely met her own and only then did she make a move. Forcing Brittany's head back against the tiles, Quinn pressed their mouth's firmly together and took the opportunity when Brittany gasped and parted her lips to brush the tip of her tongue against the blonde's, shuddering as the body under her curled into her own. Her thumb which had been idly stroking over the skin of the cheerleader's thigh joined the rest of her fingers as they moved up the smooth expanse of skin, bunching the short skirt up with them until they connected with the edge of Brittany's panties.

Under Quinn's body, Brittany trembled and whimpered – a noise that was swallowed by the punk pressed against her - when she felt the heat of a hand as it ventured higher and higher until it was close enough to make her stomach tighten in anticipation. If her mouth hadn't been per-occupied, Quinn would have smirked at how easy it was to get a rise out of Brittany. Sadly, for the blonde, sex in a bathroom was not Quinn's style (it was after all, dirty, whorish and uncomfortable) so instead of giving Brittany what she knew she desperately wanted, Quinn trailed a finger along the middle of her panty clad slit, a rumbling noise much a kin to a purr leaving her at the dampness her finger was met with. Perfect, keep them wanting and they never strayed, or at least she hoped so. Pulling back from the kiss, Quinn watched the pleasant flush that had spread over Brittany's cheeks and pressed another chaste kiss to her mouth before pulling back. Without a word, Quinn turned around and quickly snatched up her make up from the sink before she stuffed it into her back, acting for all the world like she was alone in the bathroom - despite the fact she could feel a pair of baby blue eyes following her around the room. Slinging her back over her shoulder, Quinn took the few steps to closet the gap between her and the exit . Just before she opened the door, Quinn turned her head and gave the blushing cheerleader a wink before pressing a solitary finger to her lips as a 'shhh' noise escaped echoed around the bathroom. Within the next second, the ex-cheerleader had disappeared, the bathroom door swinging behind her.

Today, was going to be good. Quinn could just tell.


	2. Chapter 2

"Miss Fabray? Principle Figgins will see you now"

Quinn looked up from where she was slouched over in her chair to see the receptionist –with hair pulled back so tight in a bun that it looked as if she'd had a botched face lift - giving her a disapproving look. Let her disapprove, Quinn thought bitterly as she raised an expectant eyebrow at the woman. Judging by the pursed lips of the decrepit old lady, Quinn could only guess how badly she wanted to open her mouth and spurt out her two cents about the situation. 

That was possibly the most frustrating thing about having completely re-made herself over summer. People who'd never spoken to her before, who'd only seen her in the halls were suddenly expects on _her._ Quinn was sick of hearing about how pretty she used to be, how much she'd had going for her and how if she'd just tried that little bit harder, held on a little bit longer, things would have been alright. Things would not have been alright. No body at the time had wanted to know what it was exactly she was going through, sure they'd tried to sympathized but Quinn had learned the hard way that people were selfish and wouldn't give you the time of day unless they got something out of it in return. They didn't care then and they only cared now because suddenly, she'd broken away from their control, she'd stopped listening and doing what everybody else wanted and it felt amazing.

With a quick flip of the finger to the receptionist, Quinn pushed herself up from where she'd been slouched over in her chair and grabbed the strap of her bag, letting it drag behind herself before she threw it to the side of yet another chair, this one more grand then the last. Sitting behind a smart looking mahogany desk sat Figgins, balding, with a mismatching tie and shirt looking every bit the out of date moron he was. Without waiting for an invitation, Quinn dropped down into the chair provided for her and threw her legs over the arm, her body twisting purposely so she could avoid eye contact with the man. There was no look he could give her that she hadn't already seen a thousand times before.

Disappointment, betrayal, confusion, anger, melancholy.

Quinn had seem them all before (particularly recently) and she wasn't about to sit through another half assed guilt trip.

"Miss Fabray, I assume you know why you're here"

Unblinking, the punk studied her fingers, her blunt nails picking at the already torn up cuticles. "You do, _Sir_? Well, why don't you just give me a lecture, slap my wrist and send me on my way since you all insist on treating me like a moronic child? Wouldn't want to be the odd one out would you, Figgins?" She didn't need to look up to know that the elder man's cheek were probably red in frustration. As well as being a bigoted, sexiest man, he'd never been known for his cool, calm personality and collected temper. "Miss Fabray, smoking on school ground is prohibited, something all students are aware of however seeing as this is your first infraction we would have been willing to let you go with a warning. But smoking _in_ class is unacceptable! That is a shared learning environment, Quinn, people do not want to be breathing in your dirty, murderous fumes!" Quinn grit her teeth, so very tempted to grind them at the audacity of the man telling her what she could and couldn't do. Throwing her legs from the side of the chair, she sat forwards, her arms folding neatly on the desk in front of her.

"With all due respect,_ sir,_ last time I checked this was a free country and eighteen is the legal age for buying tobacco. _I'm_ eighteen,_ I_ wanted to smoke. I haven't done anything wrong but protest your small minded views."

Quinn squared her shoulders, preparing for the argument she was sure was coming, but when Figgins instead just sighed and sat back, Quinn was both silenced and surprised. He was the first person who appeared to be giving up on her, the first person who just simply couldn't be bothered fighting her and Quinn honestly wasn't sure how to feel about that. She didn't even get a chance to shift through the confusion in her mind before he was speaking again, making it very obvious he was trying to make some kind of emotional connection between the two of them. "I know things have been hard, Quinn and I know it can be a horrible world sometimes, but you broke the rules. There's nothing I can do, my hands are tied. You'll be suspended for a week and this infraction will go on your school record. You're free to go." The dismissal happened so fast that she didn't get a chance to formulate a witty remark, her mouth instead opened and closed like a fish a few times before she noticed Figgins standing, an arm out held towards the door.

Feeling the cold sting of humiliation settle in, Quinn stood; feeling much more jaded then she had when she'd first walked into the room and snatched her bag from the floor before giving Figgins a practiced death glare. A haughty "whatever" left her as she nudged the chair out of the way and stormed out of the office, her pink hair whipping angrily around her face as she left.

Fuck McKinley, Fuck Figgins, Fuck Schuester and Fuck the fucking glee club kids. They all preached about how they were a family, how this was a safe community but Quinn didn't feel safe. She hadn't felt safe for a long time. What justified their right to start caring about her now, or worse, act apathetic and shove it in her face? Quinn hadn't asked for their attention, she hadn't asked for their opinions or their help. In fact she would have proffered if they all just disappeared and left her alone. That apparently wasn't going to happen though.

When Quinn pulled up on the curb aside her house, it had taken her all of two seconds to recognize the car sitting in her usual parking spot.

Santana.

And wherever there was Santana, Brittany was sure to follow. With a groan, Quinn let her forehead fall against the top of her steering wheel before she rummaged through her bag and pulled out her cigarettes. She doubted she'd be able to get through this encounter without her coveted nicotine. Turning off her car, she stepped out into the cold night air and glanced up at her bed room window, not at all surprised when she saw a slither of artificial light creep through into the darkening sky. With sullen footsteps, Quinn stomped to her front door and shoved the key into the lock, her agitated movements giving anyone who could have been on looking the very direct message that she wasn't in the mood for company. "Judy, I'm home!" Quinn called out as she threw her keys onto the side table. Quinn paused when she reached the bottom of the staircase, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in anger when a very familiar noise reached her ears.

Screaming.

Not just screaming though, shouting as well in that awful, hysterical, panicked voice tone her mother reached when she was on the verge of having a panic attack. Ever since Quinn's dad had been kicked out of the house, he'd been around at least once a week (usually drunk) begging for Judy to take him back, promising he was a changed man and that he had eyes for only her. It was all a load of bullshit and Quinn knew it. Sadly though, her mother didn't and almost fell for the act every single week. It was Quinn's job to interject and force him out of the house much to his and her mother's protests. But not this week, it was about time Judy Fabray learned to stand up for herself. With a grumble, Quinn took the stairs up to her room two at a time and flung her bedroom door open. She eyed the two girls sprawled across her bed with a raised eyebrow before kicking the door shut.

"You're out of school now, do you really have to wear those ridiculous outfits in my room?"

The cheerio's cheerleading uniform was something most girls coveted receiving. Quinn had received it twice in her life and both times she'd been so happy she nearly cried. Now though? She was planning on cutting up her uniforms up for Halloween to make something of a Zombie-Hooker. Personally, she thought it was a much better use for the uniform.

"Geez Q, lighten up. You're going to give yourself premature wrinkles with all that scowling you've been doing lately" Santana sat with her legs crossed on the edge of Quinn's unmade bed, unashamedly letting her eyes trail over the punk's slender body. Truth be told, Quinn reveled in the attention. This was the kind of attention she craved, this was what she wanted. A person would have had to be blind and deaf to miss the raw lust that Santana's eyes flashed with. Well, that or they'd have to be Brittany. Quinn barely had time to brace herself as the blonde bombshell threw herself at her. With an "Oof "Quinn stumbled back, her arms circling in a placating manner around the squirming blonde now clinging to her, barely able to understand Brittany's insane babbling.

"Why're you so late Quinn? Did you have to help Figgins go and plant more gummy bear houses? You didn't get expelled did you? We waited for you out the front but no one answered the door when we rang and San said it was fine to come up, didn't you San?" Brittany turned to glance at the Latino on the bed who appeared every bit as frustrated as Quinn felt – at least until Brittany gave her a beaming smile and she caved. With a sigh and an adoring look sent in Brittany's direction, Santana stood up, the folds of her skirt falling neatly against her enticingly slender legs. "Yeah, you don't mind do you Quinn? I mean it's not like we've seen you all week. What happened to us staying friends? You've barely looked in our direction at all this week" Despite the snappy under tones in Santana's voice, Quinn knew what the real issue was.

Santana was proud, she was strong and confident. Or at least, she acted that way. Quinn was very aware how fragile and cowardly the girl was deep down. She'd been too afraid in the past to tell Brittany she loved her, she'd been too afraid to come out at school, the same was Kurt had been and most of all, Santana was afraid of getting her heart broken. There was an unspoken law between the two of them, a silent vow that allowed each of them to understand just how deeply they cared for the other without having to say a single word. Brittany on the other hand, was a different matter altogether. She failed to pick up on the subtle nuances of human behaviors and interactions and was still kept painfully in the dark about Santana's intentions towards her.

Quinn shrugged out of the leather jacket she'd worn to school and threw it over the back of her desk chair before grabbing a hair band to pull the mess of pink hair off the back of her neck. "Santana, relax. It's Friday. We've barely been in school for a week and you're already freaking out" With a dismissive wave of her hand, Quinn stepped over the piles of clothes littering her floor and pushed open her bedroom window. Smoking might have been one of her new favorite habits, but it didn't mean she wanted the lingering, stale smell of cigarette's clinging to her room. Perching herself on the windowsill, Quinn pulled a cigarette out of her fast diminishing packet and made quick work of lighting it to inhale a deep drag.

Nicotine. It was better then sex.

Turning back to watch the two girls on her bed, Quinn couldn't help but let her lips twitch up into a smile. Brittany lay with her head in Santana's lap as slim fingers stroked through her hair tenderly. Two girls who were so obviously opposite, yet in their own way both managed to make the ache of loneliness in her chest disappear. Quinn had to remind herself how dangerous moments like these were for her. It was so easy to fall into a comfortable existence with these girls and it wasn't something Quinn could afford to do in public. Tapping the ash off the end of her smoke gently, Quinn placed it between her lips and let it dangle precariously as she stood up to strip herself of her t-shirt before making a move to continue with her skirt. Having turned her back to the two cheerleaders on her bed she was oblivious to their movements and Quinn jumped with a start as two deliciously tanned hands skimmed the contours of her waist before coming to knot together against her flat stomach.

"So, since it's Friday night and we knew you were likely to lock yourself in your room and listen to that hardcore emo…whatever it is you're into these days, we thought we'd come and save you and have a little…fun instead"

The words were purred so sweetly against the lobe of her ear that Quinn had to suppress a shiver. She didn't protest as the hands rubbed slow, soothing circles on her exposed flesh moving lower and lower until they were slipping in-between the material of her skirt and the dip of her hips. "Santana" she spoke carefully, not wanting to let the breathless tremor that was trying to expose itself escape. "You can't just tempt me with sex and expect all my problems to go away or that I'll forget you pretty much broke into my house…it doesn't work like that." Quinn attempted to sound gruff, they all knew she was and judging from the frustrated sigh that sounded next to her ear, she suspected Santana had anticipated a fight about the issue– how could she not have? It wasn't as if Quinn was a docile little lamb.

What surprised the both of them though was the sudden presence of a blissfully naive Brittany in front of them, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked slowly on the balls of her feet. Whatever tension Quinn and Santana had been felt building ebbed when they caught sight of the timid little smile Brittany was directing at them. "We don't need to sleep with you to have fun Quinn. Right , San?" Begrudgingly the Latino grunted her agreement and slowly pulled her hands from the delicate skin of the punk's hips. Brittany may not have been an intellectual genius but she sure as hell had the both of them wrapped around her little finger; so much so that when she pulled the half burnt out cigarette from Quinn's hands the partially clothed girl did nothing but watch as her nicotine fix was stolen and stubbed out.

Replacing the smoke with her own hand Brittany gave Quinn a reassuring smile and lead her towards the crumpled sheets of the bed. With gentle guidance she turned the slightly confused albeit placated Quinn backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed and caused her to crumple on the mattress. With one simple motion, Quinn had laid herself out across the middle of her bed. Looking as smug as was possible for Brittany , she flopped down beside the mop of pink hair and hooked a leg over Quinn's bare waist. From the side lines Santana had been watching with a raised eyebrow, the jealousy rising within her until she'd been given an expectant look from a certain blonde over Quinn's shoulder. Resigning herself to the fact she wasn't going to get out of this fate, not tonight anyway, Santana crawled onto the other side of the punk and wrapped an arm around her middle, her fingers ghosting Brittany's thigh as she rolled her eyes at the encouraging smile she was given.

Thought she would be loath to admit it, it was exactly what Quinn needed, what she was craving. Acceptance. Comfort. Security. For possibly the first time in months, she was forced to admit to herself that in that particular moment she had nothing to be sour about and that no matter how hard she tried to push, two certain people in her life were probably never going to leave.


	3. Chapter 3

Quinn awoke the next morning with a grunt. Someone was poking their elbow into her ribs and someone else had their ass pressing into her back ,which pushed her further into the elbow and she was not at all comfortable. Realizing she had a mouthful of black hair as well, the punk spit it out in irritation and attempted to disentangle herself from the mass of limbs thrown all over her and the bed. If she hadn't already been in the process of waking up, Quinn probably would have missed the noise of her door clicking shut. With a frown, the pink haired teenager climbed over the passed out body of Brittany (rolling her eyes when the girl mumbled something about Lord Tubbington needing to stay in his naughty corner) and grabbed an oversized sweater from the side of her bed. God only knew how long it had been sitting there or the last time it had been washed but it was the nearest item and clothing and Quinn was in a hurry to find out why her mother had been poking her nose into her room and as a result, into her business. At least, she hoped it was her mother. Tugging the oversized item of clothing over her head, Quinn pushed her fingers through her messy hair in attempt to create some semblance of control and glanced back at her bed. The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile despite herself as she looked at the two very adorable and obviously sleepy girls strew over her bed. Neither Santana nor Brittany were elegant in their sleep but that didn't make them any less desirable.

As quietly as she could, Quinn pulled her bedroom door open and slipped outside into the hall, her arms crossing over her chest as she opened her mouth to speak. "Judy what are you…" however it wasn't her mother that turned around. Instead it was slightly balding, tubby man who for a better part of her life Quinn had called "daddy". "What're you doing here?" she asked, her voice sharp enough to cut through glass. "This isn't your house anymore _Russell_ so get the hell out" many people would have been surprised, surely, to hear the previous daddy's girly speaking in such a way to her father but then again, most of those people didn't know what had happened inside the walls of the Fabray household. Russell Fabray was a self proclaimed wholesome man who had had the perfect little family…at least until Quinn had gone and fucked it all up. He'd kicked her out while she was pregnant and she would never be able to forgive him for that. What was even worse was that he'd blamed her unexplained absence in the house on a drug addiction. Oh yes, Russell Fabray had cared more about his image in the community then his daughters well being, so when asked why Quinn wasn't attending the chastity ball or why she wasn't at church on Sunday mornings, he'd told everyone that she'd started smoking marijuana and hanging around with the wrong kinds of people, he'd told them that she'd become uncontrollable so it was with a heavy heart that he and Judy had had to kick her out.

It was all bullshit but no one would ever believe a seventeen year old kid with a sudden spike in attitude over such a jovial and outstanding member of the community – so she hadn't even tired to argue her case. Quinn watched as her father's eyes roamed over her in disgust. "That is no way to address your father young lady" he began in a tone that suggested she was to bow to his authority or suffer the consequences. "And don't you be telling me to get out of my own house, I should…" he was cut off by a loud scoff from Quinn who at the same time threw her arms up in exasperation. "Your house? Are you fucking kidding yourself Russell, you've been living off of Judy's money ever since before you were married. This is _her _house, you don't belong here, you don't get a say in any of the shit that goes around here anymore!" it was satisfying, she had to admit, watching the angry red flush rise in his cheeks. In fact, Quinn thought, he looked very much like a sunburned version of the Pillsbury Dough boy.

"Watch your language Quinn! You're still my daughter, it's still my right to control your behavior, starting with those girls!"

Quinn balked at the audacity of the man. Her realization that she liked women had come after she'd given birth to Beth. Of course before hand she'd experimented and "practiced" with her friends but she had always fought the feelings behind the actions. "I stopped being your daughter as soon as you kicked me out of the god damn house!" she snapped back at him angrily, stepping forwards as she squared up to the red faced man in front of her.

"Don't take the lords name in vain! It's bad enough that you sin under my roof, laying with women the way you're supposed to lay with man… and only then after marriage!" Russell Fabray scowled at his daughter, disapproval seeping out of every single pore in his body. What had happened to his little princess?

Quinn could only stand there in shock as he went off on his little tangent. This was the same man that had been committing adultery right under her mothers nose and here he was, disgusted at her for fucking a girl...well, girls? "Well don't you win hypocrite of the fucking year! Fuck you Russell, I bet you weren't thinking much about the lord when you were buried between those whore's legs!"

The screeching of the two Fabray's had long ago woken the rest of the house hold; Brittany had curled into Santana's side and buried her face into the girl's neck before pressing a pillow over her ears in a futile attempt to block out the screaming. Santana however was listening intently, her fingers carding through blonde hair in a half assed attempting at a soothing gesture. Judy Fabray had hidden herself in the kitchen, acting as if nothing was out of place despite the fact she could hear the yelling; they were, she thought anxiously, rather a bad distraction from her breakfast preparations.

However the sound of skin meeting skin that echoed around the home stopped everyone dead in their tracks.

Quinn stumbled backwards, the shock obvious on her face as she pressed a hand to her stinging cheek. He'd hit her, Russell had fucking hit like she was a woman in the 1800's who'd spoken about something other then the weather or the quality of her tea. For a moment, time seemed to stand still and then all at once another commotion started. Santana had ripped open the bedroom door looking about ready to kill someone while Brittany stood back nervously and watched; nibbling on the ends of her already destroyed nails.

Launching forwards, Santana wrapped an arm around Quinn's waist and pulled the girl back against her chest. Using her free hand to turn the punk's face, Santana glanced over Quinn's face quickly, checking for oncoming black eyes and split lips before deciding that despite the damage being minimal it was inexcusable. Only then did she turn her attention to Russell Fabray. With flared nostrils, the Latino started screeching in chaotic, rushed Spanish, her free arm waving through the air wildly as she made rude gestures towards Russell.

All the while Quinn was in a daze, her eyes were glassy as she spaced out for a moment and the world around her became still and silent. Her father had always been an arrogant man, strong and expectant but he had never been physically violent before, not even when he'd thought Finn had gotten her pregnant - he'd just told them both to get out of his house and stormed out. This behavior crossed a line, a line that Quinn hadn't even realized existed until now. Oh so slowly, her world came back into focus and she was made painfully aware of the stinging in her cheek, the nails digging into her rib cage and the screaming in her ear. With a small grunt, she pulled away from Santana's hold and lifted her gaze until she was eye to eye with her father. Her word's were harsh, but spoken in a low, threatening voice that caused her to appear more vicious then her small stature would have suggested. "You are scum of the earth, Russell, and I hope one day you rot in hell where you belong. But before that I hope you suffer like you've made everyone around you suffer and I promise you if you ever touch me again, you won't be able to fuck those whores of yours you love so much"

Quinn turned with an angry flourish and pushed past the whimpering blonde in her door way back into her room. Grabbing a bag from the top of her wardrobe, Quinn started grabbing clothes from her floor and off the bed. She moved around her room like a woman possessed, throwing things into the bag until it was bursting at the seams. Anything that didn't fit would just have to stay; her dear old parents could keep it as a reminder of what they'd abused and lost. Her door clicked quietly as it was shut but she didn't both to look up. In front of the door Brittany stood holding Santana's hand tightly, her thin, perfectly shaped eyebrows pulled into a deep frown.

"Quinn…what're you doing...San what's she doing, are we going camping?" both the confusion and the tremor in the blonde's voice was obvious and Santana's sighed as she pressed a soft kiss to the other cheerleader's cheek. "No, Brit…Quinn's just…coming to live with me for a while" at that statement, Quinn did look up, an argument about to fall from her lips before Santana cut her off again. "No, Look Q. I know you, you're probably planning on living in your car or whatever to prove you can look after yourself and don't need anyone, and we might not be able to talk in public but we're still friends and there is no way I am going to let you live like a homeless person just because you got stuck with two dick bags for parents and are more stubborn then a mule. So grab your shit and let's go, alright?" There wasn't any pity in Santana's voice, some sympathy perhaps but nothing that suggested this was charity and Quinn had to fight the urge to throw her arms around the Latino in front of her. Santana understood her, possibly more then she was willing to admit. She couldn't let any of her emotions effect her right now. If she did, she was going to fall into a heaving mess and there was no time for that, she needed to get out of this prison and now.

With a small nod, Quinn tugged on a pair of old jeans before grabbing her bag with both hands and threw it up over her shoulder. "Alright…thanks, just for a while though" the two nodded at each other in understanding, however it was no surprise that the unspoken words had flown straight over Brittany's head. She looked at Quinn questioningly, the worry etched over her face as she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. The punk gave her a tired smile and cupped the side of the cheerleader's face in her hand when she was close enough, her thumb stroking gently over the creamy white skin before pressing a soft kiss to the other girls pink lips. "It's okay Brittany…I'm okay, promise". The timid smile she received was enough to reassure her that Brittany believed her and accepted the situation for what it was, even if she didn't understand it.

Without looking back, Quinn Fabray walked out of her room, out of the house she'd grown up in and out of her parents lives. Behind her, two unlikely protectors followed her, as if guarding her from any further pain the house or the people inside attempted to throw in her direction as some form of sick joke. Once she'd unlocked her car and thrown her bag into the backseat, Quinn paused for a moment and let her forehead rest against the roof of her vehicle and took a deep breath to try and calm herself. She was having one of those moments, the kind where she knew everything was about to change and she could feel the anxiety pooling in the pit on her stomach because of it. Quinn needed to get a grip on herself as soon as possible. One week into her senior year and she already felt like she was drowning, it wasn't meant to be like this….this was meant to be her year, but already everything felt like it was spiraling out of control and Quinn refused to let it swallow her whole.

After a moment and a few deep breathes, she looked up again to see Brittany and Santana watching her quietly, offering their silent support. Swallowing thickly, Quinn pulled her car door open and gave the two of them a curt nod. "Lets gets the hell out of here" she slammed her car door shut and pulled away from the curb with a loud screech, pondering exactly what this new life she was creating for herself would bring.


End file.
